


It Was Just a Dream

by angelsfalling16



Series: 20 First Kisses [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 06:26:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15358248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsfalling16/pseuds/angelsfalling16
Summary: What happens when Simon wakes up and everything that happened in Carry On was just a dream?





	It Was Just a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> May 2019 Edit: I completely rewrote this fic, and if you want to read what is, in my opinion, a much better version of this fic, you can find it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18775318)

**Simon**

I roll over in bed and feel sticky sweat covering my skin. Slowly, flashes from my dream appear in my mind. They’re quick images that don’t make much sense but feel so real. There was a dragon attack; the Mage died; I was surrounded by vampires; then, I was surrounded by fire. I feel like I’m forgetting some important piece of the dream, though. The more I try to grasp for it, the farther from my reach it gets.

The bathroom door opens, and Baz walks out. His hair is slicked-back and dripping water. I shoot up in bed as another image pops into my head. In my dream, I was running my fingers through Baz’s hair, causing it to fall in waves around his face. It was more than that, though. I was kissing him. We were at his house, and I kissed him. And he kissed me back.

Why would I dream about kissing Baz? Baz wants to kill me; he’s always wanted to kill me. I realize I’m staring at him as he just stands there with a sneer on his face.

“Crowley, Simon. Stare much?” I look away but watch him out of the corner of my eye as he walks across the room.

He looks good in his uniform, and a part of me wants to reach out and touch him. That’s when I realize that I’ve liked him for a while now. All those times I followed him around or watched everything he did and claimed that I was trying to find out what he was plotting, I just wanted to be near him. I still think he’s been plotting something all of those times, but that isn’t why I followed him.

I watch as he opens his closet to pull out a jumper. I push off my blankets and stand up. I don’t think about what I’m about to do. Not thinking is what I’m best at. I walk over to him, grab his arm, spin him around and push him up against the wall.

“Simon, what do you think you’re doing? The anathema.” He’s sneering at me again.

I shake my head. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I growl. If Baz Grimm-Pitch is going to kill me, it might as well be today, and I might as well get to see what it would really feel like to kiss him. He looks like he’s about to push me off him, so I lean forward and press my lips to his.

 

**Baz**

What the hell? Simon Snow is…kissing me? Why is he kissing me? I start to push him off and place my hands on his chest. Instead of pushing, though, I knot my hands into the front of his shirt and pull him closer.

I’ve known I was in love with Snow for three years. I never, in my wildest dreams, thought that he would be the one to kiss me. I always thought I would be the one who kissed him. Right before he killed me.

 

**Simon**

Baz is kissing me back. I expected him to punch me, at the least. Even if the anathema did kick him out. He seems to want this kiss even more than I want to kiss him. I must still be dreaming. That, or this is a trick. It must be part of his evil plot to kill me. I just need to figure out how, though.

But first, I want to try something else I remember from my dream.

 

**Baz**

Snow starts rubbing my stomach, and I lean into him. It feels weirdly amazing. My fists tighten in his shirt because I’m not sure what I should be doing with them. I’ve never even kissed anyone before. Simon seems to know what to do though.

Snow slips his fingers in between two of the buttons on my shirt, and I moan softly against his mouth. 

 

**Simon**

I didn’t think he would actually like it if I rubbed his stomach. I remembered it from my dream. It seemed a bit weird, but I wanted to try it. I’m glad I did because he moans. Then, he starts pushing harder against me. I undo one of the buttons on his shirt and slip my hand inside so I can feel the smooth skin on his stomach. 

 

**Baz**

He slips his hand in my shirt and I can’t think anymore. This kiss is better than I ever could have imagined. Maybe I am imagining it. But the way his hand feels on my stomach is something I never could have dreamed up.

I move my hands finally and tangle them in his golden curls. His hair is even softer than it looks. He starts to pull away, but I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull him back to me. There’s no way I’m ever letting him go. Not after this.

“Oh my Aleister Crowley,” a voice says behind Snow.

I knew I forgot to do something when I came back from the catacombs last night. 

 

**Simon**

I pull away from Baz and stumble back so quickly that I nearly fall. It’s Penny. Right at this moment, I hate that she is able to get into the boy’s house. I run a hand through my tangled hair and take a deep breath.

“I can explain,” I say to Penny.

“No need.” She grins. “What happens in this room stays in this room.” Then, she just turns around and walks away like nothing happened. I know that I’ll have to deal with her questions later. For now, I’m still here with Baz.

I turn back toward him, and he’s leaning against the wall casually as if I wasn’t the one who pushed him there a minute ago. Is he going to just pretend like that just didn’t happen? 

 

**Baz**

He can’t just pretend like what just happened didn’t happen. If he does, I really will kill him. I lean against the wall hoping he doesn’t realize how badly I want for us to go back to what we were doing. (Just in case he does try to pretend like that didn’t just happen.) 

 

**Simon**

Baz is just standing there staring at me. He’s not even sneering. It’s like he’s waiting for me to do or say something.

“Simon, I—” I don’t know what he was about to say because as soon as I hear my name fall out of his mouth, I’ve crossed the distance between us and pushed him back up against the wall, my mouth pressed hard to his. I feel him smile against me, and I smile back. This is how we should have spent all of these years together, not trying to kill each other at each step.


End file.
